Mutt William's Journal
by bloodrosered
Summary: Life as tough as a teen, but some quirks: Motorcycles. Adventure. A hot Russian chick named Oksana and her bad ass military leader aunt, Irina. Indiana Jones. What more could Mutt Williams ask for? M for violence, language and sexuality


MUTT WILLIAM'S JOURNAL

Dec 25th 1956

This journal is from my mom for Christmas. She said I should express my feelings in this journal. I'll tell you how much I hate my life: I hate school and my mom. I wish she would get off my back! She's always telling me what to do! She says I should stay in school. I'd rather ride my motorcycle and work with motorcycles. Motorcycles are my life. I am in love with this girl at school named Cyndi. She's a total babe. She got me a leather jacket for Christmas. I plan on marrying her someday, maybe. If she'll accept that I'm quitting school and working as a greaser for motorcycles.

Jan 1st 1957

Cyndi and I are making out in the car. We've only been going out for a few months, but I really want to get to second base. Man! She's so hot! We're in the back seat and the windows are fogged already, even though we've only been in the car for ten minutes. She's got her hands under my shirt and feeling up my back and chest while I'm fumbling the buttons on her sweater. I'm so tempted to touch her breasts, but I know she won't let me. I could feel her breasts swelling and oh god! I'm hard!

She grabs my hand and places it on her breast. Oh! How wonderful! We've now gotten to second base. Finally! After months of patience with this girl, I finally got to second base! My hand dives into her sweater and I feel the smooth cotton of her bra, my finger rubbing the spot where the nipple stands up like a pencil eraser. God! It's hot! So hot!

Soon, her legs start to open and oh! My other hand is on her thigh, moving slowly up towards her panties. I can feel the heat

"MUTT!" she yells, pushing me away. "YOU PIG!"

She slaps me across the face.

"Baby, I'm sorry…"

"Take me home, Mutt!" she says. "I don't want to speak to you again!"  
"I said I was sorry!"

"Mutt, you promised you wouldn't do that! I was fine with you touching my breasts, but not this! Now, take me home!"

I sigh, my hardness is swollen in my pants and it hurts like hell! I hate blue balls! I drive Cyndi home and I don't ever hear from her again.

Jan 3rd 1957

"Hey, you!" says Mom. "Where's Cyndi?"

"We broke up," I sighed, miserably.

"Oh, I'm sorry. What happened?"  
"Nothin'. We just didn't think it was gonna work."

"Oh. I see."

Jan 5th 1957

I hate school. I'm quitting. I don't care what Mom says. What's the point of reading? What's the point of fencing? Swinging around a sword when you know you're never going to use it? It's bullshit.

I just spotted Cyndi with another guy and they were sucking each other's lips off. It just hurts. Hurts so much that my girlfriend dumped me because of one stupid thing I did. Slut!

Mom and I had a huge argument when I told her I was quitting school. She grounded me for a month. I didn't even listen to her. I just jumped on my motorcycle and took off with the guys.

We drink beer and talk about chicks. When they ask about Cyndi, I just chug the beer. I don't want to talk about that slut who dumped me. Maybe the beer will make my pain go away.

"Well, Mutt!" said my buddy, Joe. "Why did I see Cyndi makin' out with George behind the library today?"

"'Cuz we broke up," I said, drunk out of my mind. "I dumped that slut anyway."

"Why? You and her were so hot for each other!" said Ben, my other bud.

"Yea. Well, she wouldn't let me touch her pussy," I said.

"Did you touch her tits?"

"Yea."  
"Good. I'm glad you dumped her. She was a slut anyway," said my other bud, Rick.

"I mean, come on, what girl doesn't let you touch her pussy after six months of dating?" said Ben.

"A virgin!" said Joe.

"Then, why are you callin' her a slut then, Joe," I said.

"Because she steals kisses faster than a thief stealing money. I'm sure she's gonna lose her virginity to George."

I really don't want to talk about Cyndi anymore. I just want to get drunk.

I get pulled over by a cop for driving drunk. He shoves me in the car and brings me home.

"Dammit, Mutt!" yells Mom. "What did you do now?" She leaned in and smelled my breath. "Have you been drinking?"

She slapped me.

"DAMMIT! You are grounded!"

I roll my eyes and feel the sting on my cheek.

Jan 7th 1957

Mom took away my motorcycle keys. Now I can't go anywhere. I can't escape with the guys and drink beer. I'm bored. What else am I supposed to do?

I need a chick. Someone easy.

I'm so bored. I work on my motorcycle and make some repairs. I really want the keys back so I could go riding and hang out with the guys. I want to drink beer and talk about chicks with they guys, maybe go to a party and crash it, meet a chick and screw her.

The guys tease me about not being able to keep a chick. They dump me faster than garbage. They tease me that I can't have sex with a girl. They know I'm still a virgin and they tease me about it, calling me a wuss.

I want to get laid, but I know that I have to respect chick's feelings. That's what Mom says. Listen to her. Understand her feelings. I should know since I've been living with my mom all my life. The boys say, just do it, man! I can't! I'm always afraid my mom will find out if I have sex with a girl.

I dunno. Maybe I should never have a chick. Maybe I'll just get a whore and pay her to screw me. Just get it over with man!

Jan 8th 1957

I got drunk again. Mom grounded me. This time, we're moving. She sent me to a new school: a prep school where they wear uniforms and walk around like they got a steel pole up their asses. Dammit! I quit!  
Mom and I had a huge fight over this. She told me that without a high school degree, I'm not going to get anywhere in life. I told her I don't care. I'd rather just fix motorcycles for a living.

Mom says we're running out of my Dad's life insurance money. She says she's worried that she won't have enough money to pay for the apartment we live in.

I tell her I'm gonna get a job as a greaser in a local garage. She insists that I just go to school. I tell her I don't want to. I hate school. I hate reading and learning. School is boring. I'd rather just hang with the guys.

"Very well," she says. "If you want to get a job, then you'd better start coughing up money for rent, mister."

"Fine!"

Jan 12th 1957

I got the job! I'm now a mechanic at Mac's Auto. He says I got the skills to fix stuff, just need some training.

I tell Mom the good news. She says that she's glad I found a job, but in her eyes, she seems sad. I guess I am just a big disappointment to her.

Jan 15th 1957

Got my first paycheck today. 300! I really am excited that I'm making my own money now. I give Mom some money from my check. Now she can pay some of the rent that we owe.

I went out with the guys after work to drink. We clinked bottles together to congratulate me for making money. Tonight the tab is on me. Since _I'm_ the one with the job, _I_ pay tonight.

Jan 20th 1957

After a week of working at Mac's, I go out every night with the guys, drinking beer. Mom's been acting funny lately. She says that a friend of hers, a guy named Harold Oxley has disappeared. She had been getting letters from him about how his expedition in Peru were going and the next thing, she said is that she hasn't heard from him in weeks. Not since I had dropped out of that stupid prep school. She tells me he went on an expedition in Peru about some explorer named Francisco de Orellana. He and his crew came to Peru and then disappeared years later. Nobody has found them since.

Now, Oxley is gone. The last place she heard was somewhere in Peru on some quest for a crystal skull. Who knows?

Mom says she's going down to Peru tomorrow to find him. She says that she will call me. She says should anything happen to look for a Professor Henry 'Indiana' Jones who works at Marshall College. 

She says he's an old friend of hers and that he would be able to help. She has a photo of him in her personal belongings, says if I don't find him, this is what he looks like.

Jan 25th 1957

I haven't heard from Mom in five days. She promised she would call. Yea. I threw a few parties at the house, but the landlord kicked all of my friends out, saying that if I don't get my friends out of the house, he will call the cops.

I'm bored anyway. So the past five days, I stay out of the apartment, hanging with the guys, drinking beer.

But five days have gone by and I haven't heard from Mom. I'm worried. I'm running out of money to pay the rent _and_ for groceries.

Jan 26th 1957

Still haven't heard from her. Where is she?

Jan 27th 1957.

Nothing.

Jan 28th 1957

I find a letter on the table in the apartment. It's written in terrible English. I open it and it says:

_We have your Mom and Mr. Oxley. You never see her again. Find this Indiana Jones and bring him here to Peru. Do not contact police. If you don't come, your mom will be dead. _

I'm scared. Someone is threatening my mom! How dare they! I wish I was down there now. I would've kicked their asses if anyone harmed my mom. Sure I hate her, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't let anyone harm her. Inside were ancient maps and stuff along with the note.

I'd better find this Professor Henry 'Indiana' Jones. Maybe he can help find my mom. I still don't get how she knows him. I mean he's just a teacher. What's her connection to this guy?

Jan 30th 1957

I ride up to Marshall College. Everybody stares at me with my leather jacket and my motorcycle. I ask the assistant dean where he is.

"He's on a leave of absence," he says.

"What?" I say. "Where did he go? Where can I find him?"

"If you hurry, you should find him at the train station. He's leaving until some matter is cleared up on him."

I ride down to the train station and I find him.

"Hey! Old man!" I yell. He doesn't respond. What? Is he deaf or something? "Professor Henry Jones?"

He turns his head. He's probably fifty by now. He's wearing a brown fedora and dressed in a suit, holding a brown suitcase.

"How do you know me?" he said.

"My mom says you're a friend of hers."

"Really?"

"Yea. Listen, she's in trouble. Your colleague, Harold Oxley disappeared while on an expedition in Peru. I got this letter in the mail. They got my mom. You gotta help me."

"What's your mom's name?"

"Marion Williams."

"I knew a lot of Marions. Doesn't ring a bell." He looks me up and down. "What's your name, kid?"  
"Mutt Williams."

"What kind of name is that?"

"I like it," I said. "Besides, they sent me this along with the note." I showed him. He studied them carefully. Soon, his eye drifted


End file.
